At first, there had only been three of them.
Zarestia, and her two older brothers.
They were not siblings in the truest sense of the word. They had simply been born on the same day, spirits brought into existence by the world itself.
Yet, to Zarestia, they were her brothers.
And she was their sister.
The three of them were Great Spirits, beings whose existence stood far above everyone else. Their powers were immense, their lives seemingly without end, and the world itself had given them little reason to fear anything.
But despite sharing the same origin, they could not have been more different.
One of her brothers devoted himself to honing his abilities.
The other spent his days among humans.
Zarestia had never understood him.
"I don't get it... You have nothing in common with those people. Helping humans is something lesser spirits would do. I don't know why you would bother with that."
Humans were were weak, fragile creatures.
Their lives were so short that, from a her perspective, their entire existence could pass like a brief gust of wind.
What meaning could there possibly be in spending eternity concerning oneself with them?
Her brother had never seemed particularly bothered by that question.
Zarestia certainly wasn't.
She had her own interests.
She wanted to experience the fullness of her power.
Wind.
Fire.
Water.
Earth.
She loved it all.
She enjoyed her freedom.
She could spend hours repeating the same things simply because she enjoyed watching the world respond to her.
That, to her, was fulfillment.
Her brother, however, was far stronger than she was.
And yet, strangely enough, he almost never showed it.
He possessed enough power to reshape the world, yet he rarely used it.
Instead, every few decades, he would suddenly appear before her.
Sometimes she would be in the middle of practicing.
Sometimes she would be sleeping.
Sometimes she would be enjoying a particularly pleasant day in solitude.
It never mattered.
Whenever he decided that he wanted to see her, he would simply find her.
And then, without asking for permission, he would drag her away somewhere to talk.
"The strong is the fruit of the weak. And the weak is the seed for the strong."
Zarestia had stared at him blankly.
"That sounds stupid, and I don't see how it matters anyway. Those people that you help would die in just a couple of years even if nothing happens to them."
"Haha, I guess you can look at it that way."
He had never argued with her.
That was another thing about him that she didn't understand.
He simply smiled.
He always smiled.
"Hey, Zarestia."
"Hm?"
"Do you think I'm the one who created this kingdom on my own?"
Zarestia tilted her head.
"Who else?"
Her brother laughed.
"Haha, no... I could never, even with all the power that I have."
It had begun with something so insignificant that Zarestia could hardly understand why he remembered it.
A carriage.
A simple carriage carrying goods toward a small village.
One of its wheels had broken.
The carriage had begun to veer off its path, heading toward the edge of a cliff. The humans inside had been powerless to stop it.
Her brother had intervened., nothing spectacular.
He had simply prevented the carriage from falling.
Those goods reached the village.
Because they did, the villagers had enough supplies to survive the coming winter.
And because those people survived, the village survived with them.
Years later, monsters attacked.
A horde descended upon the settlement, and once again, her brother intervened.
He drove the monsters away.
The residents survived and continued living.
And then those people had children.
Their children had children.
Generations came and went.
The little village grew.
People moved elsewhere and established new settlements. Those settlements became towns, and those towns eventually became cities.
The descendants of those first survivors carried pieces of their predecessors' lives with them.
Their knowledge, their customs, their dreams.
Small things became larger things.
"They were just small actions," her brother had said, his voice unusually gentle, "but the people that I helped also helped other people."
He looked toward the distant kingdom.
"Small acts, when multiplied by millions of people, can transform the world."
Zarestia had remained silent.
She still wasn't convinced.
To her, the distinction between one human and another was difficult to grasp. They were born, they lived, and then they died.
What could possibly be so wonderful about that?
Her brother seemed to understand her thoughts.
"Being of service to others is what brings true happiness."
He smiled.
"I hope that one day you meet people that you can truly be joyful around."
Zarestia had frowned.
"Hey! Stop messing with my hair..."
His fingers had already found their way into her hair.
He ruffled it playfully, much to her annoyance.
Then he grinned.
"Well, I won't complain if you stay this cute forever."
Her cheeks immediately grew hot.
"What are you saying?!"
She abruptly stood.
"I'm leaving!"
"Haha, take care."
She stormed away.
She did not look back.
At the time, Zarestia had thought that there would always be another day.
Another decade.
Another century.
They were spirits.
Time was something that belonged to humans.
It did not matter to them.
Or so she had believed.
Decades passed.
Zarestia never saw her brother again.
At first, she assumed he was simply busy.
Then she thought he had probably found another human settlement to meddle with.
She even began avoiding the places where she thought he might appear, more out of habit than genuine concern.
It was pointless, of course.
If her brother truly wanted to find her, he would.
He always had.
Yet the years continued to pass.
Ten became twenty.
Twenty became fifty.
Fifty became a hundred.
And still, he did not come.
For the first time since the day they had been born, Zarestia began to wonder what he was up to.
She waited with anticipation.
Her usual amusement gradually became emptier.
The wind still answered her call.
The flames still danced at her fingertips.
Water still moved when she commanded it.
The earth still shifted beneath her feet.
She still had everything she had always enjoyed.
And yet...
Something was missing.
She simply did not have a name for it.
Until, one day, she finally admitted the truth.
She missed him.
For the first time in their existence, their roles were reversed.
Zarestia was the one searching, she was the one who went looking for her brother.
She did not know what she expected to find.
But she searched.
She wandered from settlement to settlement, and her persistence eventually led her to someone who knew.
"Hello, my dear child."
"He told me about you."
"He knew that one day you might come looking for him. So he asked me to continue following in his footsteps."
She gestured toward the distant kingdom.
"I am here to take care of the people he cared about."
The spirit continued speaking, explaining what her brother had asked of her, how he had prepared for the day he could no longer remain, and how he had entrusted the people he cared about to someone else.
Zarestia barely listened.
The words reached her ears, but they never truly entered her mind.
His beliefs, his kindness, his obsession with humans.
They were just her brother's words again.
Even now, when he was gone, he had left something behind for them.
But what about her?
There was nothing left for her.
Her other brother was gone as well.
But that did not bother her nearly as much as the two of them had never been particularly close.
But her other brother...
That was different.
She had never realized how much until he was no longer there.
Zarestia did not stay.
She simply turned around and left.
She walked as far away as she could, so she doesn't have to see any of his traces.
Eventually, she found a place where no one could see her.
A secluded corner of the world surrounded by mountains and forests, far from human settlements and even farther from their questions.
There, she finally stopped.
And for the first time in her existence, Zarestia felt something she could not understand.
An ache.
It was somewhere inside her chest.
There was no wound.
Yet it hurt.
It felt as though something had been hollowed out inside her, leaving behind an empty space that nothing could fill.
She tried to ignore it.
She returned to the things she had always enjoyed.
The wind answered her call. She raised her head, and the air began to dance.
Her hands summoned fire, her tail pulled water from the earth, her feet stirred the soil beneath her.
The elements moved exactly as they always had.
Beautiful, powerful and free.
But the satisfaction was gone.
She stared at the flames in her hands.
Normally, she would have smiled.
Instead, she felt nothing.
She tried again.
And again.
She pushed herself harder, filling the empty landscape with storms, fire, rushing water, and trembling earth.
Yet no matter how much power she used, the hollow space remained.
It was still there.
Days passed.
Then years.
She remained hidden from humans and spirits alike, avoiding anyone who might try to approach her.
But loneliness has a way of finding even those who seek solitude.
Eventually, humans found her.
It happened almost by accident.
They discovered her while she was using her magic, and instead of fleeing, they stared.
They praised her.
They called her beautiful.
And It felt good.
Being admired felt good.
So when they came again, she did not drive them away.
When they asked for her help, she listened.
When they thanked her, she smiled.
Little by little, more humans came.
Then more.
They brought requests, and they brought gifts.
Zarestia cared little for the gifts themselves, but she enjoyed the expressions on their faces when she granted their wishes.
They were happy.
And because they were happy with her, she was happy too.
It was different from the freedom she had known before.
Yet, for a while, she did not mind.
Her brother had wanted her to find people she could be joyful around.
Perhaps...
Perhaps this was what he had meant.
But requests had a way of multiplying.
At first, they had asked for simple things.
Then they became more specific.
More demanding.
They began telling her exactly what they wanted.
What element to use.
How much power to use.
What she could and could not do.
Zarestia found herself complying more often than refusing.
After all, she enjoyed the praise.
And somewhere along the way, she became accustomed to doing what they asked.
Until one day, they made a particularly strange request.
They asked for fire and nothing else. She initially found the request disagreeable and asserted her freedom by turning it down, only for everyone to leave her.
Finding her freedom to be lonesome, she went to them and agreed to their request for fire. However, she secretly raised the wind as well, as only the wind was indispensable to her as the symbol of her freedom.
After Zarestia returned, the people invited her to a party where she was given alcohol for the first time, and she fell asleep away from her nest for the first time as well. While she slept, the people removed her limbs.
She was stripped of all her elemental powers besides wind. Confused, she asked for an explanation, and they accused her of burning their towns and villages as her wind had caused the flames to spread. They bathed her in alcohol and lit her ablaze, and she saw they were pleased to watch her burn as she screamed in pain.
They had never loved her.
They had never cared about her.
They had only loved what she could do for them.
Her eyes became empty.
"If that's what you want..."
The air around her twisted violently.
"...then I'll give you everything."
The screams began shortly afterward.
One by one, she killed them.
Every person who had deceived her.
Every person who had taken advantage of her.
The wind tore through them all.
And when it was over, Zarestia stood alone once again.
The village was silent.
There was no one left to praise her, no one left to make requests.
The loneliness she had once feared became something she embraced.
The affection she had once sought became something she despised.
If no one could bind her, If no one could take anything from her again...
Then she would destroy anything that tried.
And so, as the centuries passed, she gained the title of the Most Beautiful Reaper.
__
___
____
The years that followed became a blur.
Countless events unfolded across the world.
The Great Calamity came.
The Dragon appeared.
The Witch changed the world.
And Zarestia remained uninvolved in all of it.
She did not care.
She wanted nothing to do with the affairs of the world.
She had already learned what happened when she allowed herself to become attached to something.
Everything eventually disappeared.
So she secluded herself from the world and allowed the ages to pass without her.
Even her own memories began to fracture beneath the weight of time.
There were years she could no longer remember.
Perhaps that was simply the consequence of living for so long.
She remembered being dragged from her nest against her will.
She remembered hatred slowly leaving her heart.
She remembered discovering joy again.
And she remembered how quickly that joy had been taken from her.
After that, the world became hazy once more.
Until she found herself sitting in a garden.
She remained there for weeks, she did nothing but stare at the sky.
Most of the time, she simply sat there with both hands wrapped tightly around her light sphere.
She did not know why she was holding it so tightly.
Perhaps she was afraid that she would lose it.
"When are you planning to leave, I suppose?"
A young girl's voice broke the silence.
"This is Mother's private garden."
Zarestia slowly raised her head.
Standing before her was a petite girl with large, sky-blue eyes, pink butterfly-shaped patterns adorning her irises. Her pale cream-blonde hair was worn long, tied into elaborate, frilly twin drills that framed her small face.
She wore an ornate pink dress decorated with white trimmings, its exposed front revealing her legs, which were covered by vertically striped pink-and-purple tights.
A little girl.
No.
Not a human girl.
A spirit.
And not a lesser spirit, either.
Even though she had been born only recently, there was tremendous power sleeping within her.
Under normal circumstances, Zarestia might have been curious.
Instead...
Nothing.
There was that hollow space in her chest again.
It prevented her from feeling curiosity. Preventing her from behaving as she once would have.
"Betty, that's enough."
Another voice came from behind the girl.
A woman stepped forward.
She possessed white hair as well, though hers was far paler, almost as white as snow.
"You were at the funeral, weren't you?"
The woman smiled gently.
"My name is Echidna."
Zarestia said nothing.
Her fingers only tightened around the light sphere.
"What a rude girl, I suppose. Mother asked you a question."
"Beatrice, stop it."
The woman gently interrupted the girl before turning her attention back to Zarestia.
"Is there anything I can help you with?"
It was not a question born from annoyance.
She had noticed it.
The emptiness in Zarestia's expression.
Zarestia lowered her gaze.
"I'm just going to wait here."
Echidna paused.
"I see..."
She studied the strange spirit for another moment.
"In that case, you can stay here for as long as you want."
And she left her alone.
For a while, the garden remained a place of silence.
Then time passed.
Echidna stopped coming.
Beatrice stopped coming.
Eventually, Zarestia left as well.
There was no reason to remain.
She had been waiting for no one.
And no one was coming to that garden.
So she returned to her cave.
She waited there.
For what, she didn't know.
Perhaps she was waiting for someone to come and drag her away again.
Some part of her still hoped that someone would.
During that period, she rarely left her bed.
At first, she had tried.
Whenever she held the light sphere, the urge came.
A sickening, violent impulse.
The desire to kill.
It was not simply anger, but something instinctive.
Something that whispered that if she killed everything around her, she would never have to fear being hurt again.
She hated it.
And yet...
She could not bring herself to abandon the light sphere.
She hated being alone.
But she refused to give it up.
Because, in the end, it was all she had left.
Until one day...
Someone stole it.
Zarestia's world stopped.
Then came fury and agitation.
And beneath both of them...
Fear.
Someone had taken the one thing she could not afford to lose.
She left her cave immediately and started searching.
And then she sensed it.
A tremendous surge of mana.
The sensation was unmistakable.
It was the same kind of mana her light sphere emitted.
Zarestia followed it.
It led her to a masked man.
For a moment, she thought she had found her thief.
He was the obvious suspect.
She confronted him.
He denied it.
The people surrounding him, however, seemed far less willing to believe his words.
They were hostile toward him.
They called him by a name she had never heard before.
Stride Vollachia.
Apparently, he was something called a Sin Archbishop of the Witch Cult.
Zarestia knew nothing about the Witch Cult.
She had spent far too long isolated from the outside world to care about such things.
And, frankly, she did not care.
None of it mattered.
She wanted her light sphere back.
That was all.
She was determined to kill him if he was the one who had taken it.
Yet...
She couldn't.
Her body refused to move.
Something about him stopped her.
At first, she thought it was his strange affinity with spirits.
There was something unusual about him, something that naturally drew spirits toward him.
But that wasn't it.
Whatever it was...
It was something else.
Before she understood what was happening, she found herself wanting to remain near him.
Always.
He did not allow people to approach him.
Zarestia understood that.
She had spent centuries doing the same thing.
Pushing everyone away.
Because getting close to someone meant giving them the opportunity to hurt you.
She understood him.
But she hated it.
She hated being pushed away.
Because she would never hurt him.
She slowly came to learn about the pain and the suffering he carried.
The things that had been done to him.
The weight he had endured without allowing it to completely corrupt him.
Despite everything...
He remained kind and gentle.
He remained good.
And, eventually, he stopped pushing her away.
Zarestia did not know him for very long, but...
She wanted to remain by his side.
She wanted Kazuki Tanaka to be happy.
__
___
____
More than four hundred years had passed since the last time she had visited that place.
Four hundred years.
An amount of time that should have made the place feel like a distant memory.
Yet somehow...
She was there again.
She had returned to that place in the most unexpected way possible.
"It has been a long time, Zarestia."
A man's voice reached her.
She froze.
He stood there, tall and unmoving, seemingly untouched by the passage of time.
His hair was pristine white, flowing gently in the wind.
He wore a white robe decorated with intricate silver embroidery, the fabric moving softly with every breath of air.
There was something absolute about his presence.
Something that made the surrounding world feel strangely quiet.
His voice was gentle.
Almost familiar.
But his eyes...
Icy blue.
Cold.
Unreadable.
There was no emotion that Zarestia could discern within them.
His intentions were as impossible to read as his expression.
"...A..."
She had never met this man.
Not once.
She had no memory of him.
Someone with a presence like this could not simply be forgotten.
"...Ia."
Her body had already stopped responding.
She simply stared.
She could not move.
There was no aura preventing her from moving.
Nothing physically restraining her.
And yet...
Something inside her chest had returned.
That hollowness.
The same unbearable emptiness she had felt all those centuries ago.
It was suddenly there again.
As though something buried deep within her had awakened.
"Tia!"
A familiar voice snapped her out of it.
Zarestia's gaze shifted.
A girl stood beside her.
Shion.
Her expression was a mixture of surprise and caution as she looked between Zarestia and the white-haired man.
"Zarestia, do you know Cepheus?"
Beside her stood a small boy.
He tugged nervously at her clothing, peering around her with curious eyes.
"Nee-sama..."
His voice was quiet.
"Who is that person?"
Zarestia stared at the man again.
Cepheus.
That was his name.
She did not know him.
She had never met him.
And yet...
Why did her heart hurt?
Why did the very sight of him make something inside her ache?
*********************************************************************************************************
"Tanaka-Sama!"
Tristan burst into the room, his composure shattered by urgency.
"Where is Zarestia-Sama?"
"I told her to hide within the crystal."
Tanaka spoke calmly, but his movements betrayed the tension beneath his voice.
The servants' room was cramped, filled with wardrobes, shelves, and discarded garments. Tanaka crossed the room and immediately began searching through one of the closets.
He pulled out a butler's uniform.
Then he began changing.
"Tanaka-Sama, we need to leave this place. Now."
"I know."
He slipped his arms into the coat.
"But it's useless."
"The forces outside must have surrounded the entire vicinity. Even if we break through a few of them, it's only a matter of time before we're caught."
They could do it.
Perhaps.
Between the people gathered here, they could probably take down several Paladins and force their way through the encirclement.
But there was one problem.
The dragon.
Tanaka had seen Earth Dragons before. But that creature was on an entirely different level.
Even if they somehow managed to break through the human forces surrounding the mansion, there was no guarantee they could escape that monster.
Tanaka adjusted his collar.
"The Paladins must have reported that the Great Spirit Zarestia is traveling with another Spirit Arts user."
He glanced at his reflection.
The man staring back at him was nothing like the person they were searching for.
"I used to look like Stride Vollachia. They won't recognize me like this."
He pulled the butler's jacket into place.
Tristan understood.
"So you're disguising yourself as a servant?"
Tanaka nodded.
"It's a precaution."
He reached for a pair of gloves.
"If the Mad Prince is as crazy as everyone says, he'll kill me, Zarestia, and Hugo the moment he discovers us."
The door suddenly slammed open.
Nora rushed inside.
Tanaka immediately turned toward her.
"Nora. Where is Halibel?"
She was breathing heavily.
"Halibel-sama told me that we shouldn't resist."
"Especially you."
Tanaka stared at her.
"Does he have a plan?"
Silence.
Nora's expression tightened.
She didn't answer.
Tanaka immediately understood.
Halibel had deliberately kept her in the dark.
"I see..."
There were no good options left.
If Halibel had a plan, then interfering with it might only make things worse.
Tanaka exhaled quietly.
"The only choice is to follow his lead."
*********************************************************************************************************
Tanaka left the mansion.
He lowered his head, adjusted his posture and quietly blended into the stream of personnel being moved outside.
No one paid him any particular attention.
At the front of the gathered forces stood Tiriena and Misère.
They were waiting.
Then the man they had been expecting descended.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
"Miss Tiriena..."
"Your Majesty..."
Both Misère and Tiriena bowed.
Their words resembled a greeting.
Their voices did not.
There was no warmth in them.
Only forced courtesy.
The Mad Prince stopped before them.
His gaze passed over the estate.
Then settled on Tiriena.
"I must say, I am disappointed, Tiriena."
His tone was almost gentle.
"Despite the fact that I killed your father, you are still determined to stand in my way."
His eyes narrowed.
"Harboring fugitives..."
He paused.
"How regrettable."
The leader of the Church stepped forward.
"Your Majesty, we were informed that a Spirit Arts user was among them, as well as the Great Spirit Zarestia."
"And where are they?"
The church leader hesitated.
"The Spirit Arts user was a man with dark purple hair and a slender build."
His gaze swept over the gathered servants.
"Neither he nor the Great Spirit is among us. They must still be hiding somewhere within the mansion."
The Mad Prince's expression remained unchanged.
"No."
The church leader blinked.
"I sensed the presence of a spirit before I arrived."
The Mad Prince's gaze moved toward the mansion.
"And then it disappeared."
His voice became colder.
"Search the entire area."
"Your Majesty..."
"Every corner."
He gestured toward the surrounding forces.
"Spread out."
The Paladins immediately moved.
They began dispersing around the estate.
Tanaka watched them go.
His brow furrowed.
Why?
The Mad Prince had possessed the numerical advantage.
Why willingly reduce his own forces?
The answer eluded him.
The Mad Prince then turned his attention back toward Tiriena.
"I harbor neither a grudge nor hatred toward you."
His voice was strangely sincere.
"The reason you and I must face each other like this has nothing to do with feelings of like, dislike, or animosity toward one another."
He paused.
"However..."
His head slowly moved from side to side.
"It is extremely regrettable."
A sigh escaped his lips.
"Because it is regrettable, I cannot help but feel regret."
His expression remained perfectly composed.
"Regrettably, however, I will not withdraw my hand."
It sounded absurd.
And yet there was something unsettling about the sincerity with which he said it.
"As regrettable as this situation may be, I will not kill you."
Tiriena's eyes widened slightly.
"I still need you."
His gaze sharpened.
"Killing your father apparently wasn't enough to motivate you."
The Mad Prince raised one hand.
The colossal dragon behind him moved.
Its enormous head slowly turned.
Its gaze swept across the estate.
Then—
It stopped.
Directly on Tanaka.
For the briefest moment, Tanaka felt his body tense.
Had it noticed him?
The Mad Prince raised his voice.
"Halibel of Kararagi."
His words echoed throughout the estate.
"I know you are here."
Silence.
"If you do not show yourself..."
The Mad Prince's expression remained calm.
"...I will kill your companions."
His gaze moved across the estate.
"Everyone in this place."
The threat hung in the air.
Then a figure emerged from the shadows of a nearby tree.
"Well..."
Halibel stepped into view.
His hands were casually tucked into his pockets.
"Here I am." He glanced at the Mad Prince. "I don't think you're here for my autograph."
The Mad Prince smiled faintly.
"Such a shame..."
Halibel's expression became more serious.
"For the past few months, you have made it clear that you intend to stand in the way of my goal."
His voice remained gentle.
"And that is why I think it is such a shame that I have to kill you."
He paused.
"There is no way around it."
Halibel narrowed his eyes.
"So you're saying I should quietly die here."
He glanced toward the others.
"And then you'll kill my companions afterward?"
"No."
The Mad Prince shook his head.
"I do not ask you to simply surrender your life."
He reached for the sword he had taken earlier.
"I request a duel." His fingers closed around the hilt. "To the death."
The atmosphere changed.
"My will against yours."
He slowly drew the blade.
"If you accept, I shall spare your comrades even if you die."
His eyes hardened.
"As long as none of them is a filthy spirit."
Halibel's gaze sharpened.
"That's quite the generous offer." Halibel's tone became wary. "Generous enough that it makes me think there's a catch."
"There are no tricks."
The Mad Prince answered immediately.
"Even after I kill you, I will keep your companions as prisoners until I accomplish my goal."
He raised his sword.
"However..."
His voice became colder.
"If you refuse, I shall kill all of them on the spot."
Halibel fell silent.
For several moments, he simply stared at the man before him.
Then...
He smiled.
"Fair enough."
Nora's voice rang out.
"Halibel-Sama!"
Halibel glanced over his shoulder.
"Nora-chan."
His smile softened.
"Stay put."
"But—"
"The same goes for everyone else."
His gaze swept across the people behind him.
"You'll only get in the way."
He stepped forward.
The casual air surrounding him disappeared.
His posture changed, his body lowered, his center of gravity shifted.
"The Admirer Halibel..."
He reached for his Katana.
"The protector of Kararagi."
The strongest wolf human, the strongest man in Kararagi and the world strongest shinobi.
He settled into his own stance.
There was no fear, nor excitement. Only absolute composure.
"Vague Adgard."
Around his waist, he had three blades, and he slowly reached for one.
His blade pointed toward Halibel.
"The Sin Archbishop of Pride."